u/Scottish-Psycho

Tlālōcān, ++censored by the obsidian order++ years ago.

----------

It had been almost a year since Tlalli had been assigned as Itztli's bodyguard. Their similar age meant it would be easy to justify them being together all the time.

Whilst the official line was that they were just close friends that enjoyed each others company it was natural that there were rumours of more going on between them.

The looks Itztli gave Tlalli only fuelled the rumours, but it seemed that for all her observation skills Tlalli had missed this fact. Perhaps too focused on trying to spot potential threats to the princess' life.

----------

The weather was warm and dry, perfect for an outing to the market. Itztli had picked her outfit just perfectly, to try and draw her, apparently clueless, bodyguard's attention.

A jade cropped sleeveless top that wrapped around her body, showing just enough of her abdomen to entice whilst still maintaining a degree of class. A dark brown wrap skirt that showcased her new jaguar tattoo upon her left thigh, which is definitely the only reason she wore it, not to show off her toned thighs. Her hair and makeup had been done by the palace's best cosmeticians to ensure she looked her best, as she quite often did.

Tlalli, for her part, also wore clothes. Quite possibly the first ones that cane to her hand when she got ready this morning. Her makeup, if existent, was minimal, and her hair had started recovering from the last attempt at bleaching it.

----------

The market was filled with stalls selling everything from jewellery and clothes to food and drinks. The thick crowd made it a bit too warm, which lead to Tlalli regretting her lack of careful choice when getting dressed.

At almost every stall selling items of clothing or jewellery, Itztli would drop a hint about how good Tlalli would look in something, or how a piece of jewellery would suit her, and, when she still wouldn't take the hint she started talking about how an emerald necklace was as beautiful as Tlalli's eyes.

Tlalli, was instead focused on her job as Itztli's bodyguard much to her chagrin, simply responding with vague agreements as she watched the crowd. Rebellious activity had been reported in the region, whilst there had been no threats made on Princess Itztli's life, she was, at least as far as the public knew, one of the least well defended royals.

The crowd would eventually put a small amount of space between the two, during which time Itztli grabbed some food for the two. When she reappeared with a pair of meat slewers in her hand Tlalli was pushing through the crowd. A shine from a shard of obsidian had caught her eye, and it was headed towards Itztli.

With a yell the rebel moved to strike, only being intercepted by Tlalli at the last moment. Nevertheless, the obsidian shard found flesh, tearjng a wound in Tlalli's arm. Tlalli gritted her teeth and within a second the rebel was dead, a stilleto knife ruptured his heart.

"We need to go." Tlalli grabbed Itztli and they ran the nearest direction without a crowd, into the jungle.

----------

Eventually they stopped at a waterfall at Itztli's request.

"You need to clean that cut." Itztli was fussing over her.

"I'll be fine, it's you I'm-"

"I'm only in danger of you're not at your best, so let me clean it for you." Itztli interrupted Tlalli's objections and pulled her towards the lake.

Tlalli sighed and followed her, letting her tend to her wounds.

"You know if my bosses saw us like this I would be-" Tlalli started, before being interrupted again.

"I'm the princess and therefore your boss." Itztli teased. "Besides, they'd see that you risked yourself defending me and commend you."

"It is not that simple, I-"

"I'm safe, and so are you, that's all I care about." Itztli finished washing the wound before in a fit of lunacy or bravery, kissed it.

"Why would you do that?" Tlalli protested. "It can't be-" Itztli yet again interrupted her.

"You can spot a tiny knife but you can't see me?" She asked.

"I... I'm your bodyguard it's my-"

"That's how my parents met." Itztli shrugged. "My dad was a general assigned to watch over my mum and things happened."

"It's still frowned upon, you're very beautiful and I-"

This time, Tlalli was interrupted by a kiss, then a splash as the two fell into the lake.

[20, 5]

The scream had come down the vox once the multi level storage hanger had been found. Orders were to establish a perimeter until Grivrim with the helpful Ogryns, and some combat engineers, could get there with the psy jammer.

The Ork Hunters that had sent the vox were found, lying in wait. It seems the psychic influence over their minds hadn't dulled their skills for ambush. With a click an explosion triggered wiping one squad, save for a single soldier his cries for help alerted the Ork Hunters nearby, drawing more into the kill zone.

A hail of autogun bullets from both sides ripped through flesh and caused soldier after soldier to drop. The firefight at the entrance continued until backup arrived, luckily for the remaining Ork Hunters, it was in the form of Grivrim, and a heavy bolter.

If the corrupted Hunters would've managed to shake off the psychic interference with the arrival of the jammer would not be known, as they were killed by the explosive rounds astoundingly fast.

----------

The descent into the underground complex would begin.

Cultists and traitor guard and heretical pdf troops seemed to form the majority of their outer defences. The Ork Hunters would've normally been able to make short work of these, but something always seemed to be nagging in their minds pulling their attention away.

Hunter after Hunter was cut down, in attacks they should've seen coming, against foes that should've been no threat. Until they got deeper, then they had bigger things to worry about.

They heard the whispers clearer now, although it seemed the lights had gone out. They each started to hear their loved ones calling out to them from the darkness.

"Obvious trap." Grivrim pointed out.

Had their loved ones been on this world, anywhere near where they are now, more of them may have fallen for the trick, but not the Ork Hunters. It probably helped that they were far and wide too jaded to accept that their loved ones somehow found them, here far from home, and in many cases their loved ones were dead.

The ones that did fall for the trick though, were never seen again. Devoured by the darkness, and whatever monsters lurked there.

Until they reached the door. The source of the psychic energies was behind that door. The voices were no longer a whisper but a scream.

DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR.

LEAVE THEM ALONE.

KILL WHOEVER TOUCHES THAT DOOR.

As the Ork Hunter at the front of the pack reached his hand out to touch it, his entire body screamed at him to run away, his hand felt like it was burning. Them a shot ripped through him.

The group started fighting amongst itself, each blaming another for killing their fellow soldier. Until Commissar Nihil put a shot through the man that had actually fired the shot.

"Sorry I'm late." His gravely voice growled. "Anyone else even thinks of turning on us, their fate will be the same." It was very clearly not the time for diplomacy or encouraging them through other means.

The door was then kicked open by Grivrim, and the group charged in to face the witch inside.

u/Ulster-Lion (We doing this as a pvp style duel or should I just continue?)

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[20, 16]

The descent into the basin was slower than expected, as the Ork Hunters climbed down there were a few accidents. A sniper spotted some of the more brightly dressed of them and got a couple shots off before the Ork Hunter sharpshooters hit them back. It was, admittedly, one of the flaws of not having a standard uniform but, some parade gloss boots would have lit up the cliff face like a sanguinalia tree.

----------

Grivrim had scaled down the cliff near where the combat engineers had been lowering the half of a truck they had disassembled. He had decided to accept that at least it being carried or pulled would, at the very least, be quieter than the roar of the engine. He looked at the troops he had left and started directing them, comm silence was to be maintained to avoid detection, the only exception is for when the underground bunker was found so all nearby forces can converge.

He would be taking no chances with the psyker, remembering how the genestealer cultost on the LVL station had rendered him immobile, with a sniper being the reason he was still alive. He himself would be sticking with the anti psyker field generator.

-----------

Tlalli and her girls and started setting up traps, weakening any positions that would be facing the imperial forces. Naturally they avoided rigging anything the imperials could reasonably use in the advance, somewhat forgetting how unreasonable many imperials were.

They had set tripewires and explosives that would fell lookout towers, disabled alarms they found that had not yet been activated, and in one case blocked the door to a barracks naturally delaying the enemy response time.

Notably, nothing that would make enough noise to draw the heretics and traitors upon them, at least not while they were still there, allowing their easy escape.

Of course, not all Ork Hunters valued the same level of discretion.

An explosion rang out in the distance, as an Ork Hunter that was more scar than man smiled at the fire before him. He had found a stockpile of fuel and basically took it as a sign from the Emperor, to make a ball of cleansing fire, with all those fun little explosives he had at his belt.

He paused over the still burning corpse of a heretic on the ground. He leaned down and lit his lho-stick on the fire before taking a deep drag. There was no way that the heretics had not seen this, he and his squad was ready to meet them, flamers in hand.

Similar explosions rained down on positions, as the rest of the regiments closed in on the heretics.

There was a gunfight, Half-Ork didn't know enough about insignias and uniforms to work out who the heretics were fighting, but he was sure to not let anymore reinforce the traitorous scum. He had his squad positioned in an arc around the foes position, and they worked to cut down any squad or individual running to join their ranks.

When the firing stopped they retreated back, to find more guardsman to help. Some of the unit of melee specialists had already taken their grotesque trophies, heads, fingers, one of them had an eye dangling from his neck.

"The Ghost of the Watch" instead focused on removing individuals that were in position to cause the most harm, as far as he could tell, to the imperial positions. He turned a half dozen sniper nests to blood soaked rooms that would make the most devout blood cultist of khorne blush. His work was brutal, and efficient, a skull face spectre in the shadows, if he left survivors they likely would have told grisly legends of the monstrous sight.

--------

Overall, the operation was a resounding success, with a few casualties, however, it became clear where the entrance to this underground bunker and complex was. A burst of static came through the nearest comms units.

"It's in my head!" The anguished choice cried before going silent.

The psyker had got them, they must've been just out of range of the psy jammer. Hopefully, the rest of the Ork Hunters converging would not be by the time they reached it.

[2, 18, complete failure, everyone lives]

The Ork Hunters had resumed their fight, closing in on the stairs down to the basin.

The initial assault had been succesful, but slow. It seemed that they were lagging behind. Mostly due to the attempts at stealth, having waited for their neighbouring regiments to begin their attack to try and slip past the heretics unnoticed.

The unnoticed part had not been entirely succesful. Additionally, it seemed that the next section was relatively unguarded for a reason. They had hit a dead end, sank sinking beneath their feet, as they approached walled off sections. They had to double back, and try another angle.

A fence further along that the combat engineers could cut through. But the sinking sand had slowed them down enough.

Time was running out.

As they eventually neared the stairs they were meant to take, one thing became very clear. They would have to take another way down.

Rubble littered the way, the stairs were blocked off. By retreating enemies or misplaced artillery it was not immediately clear.

Grivrim cursed to himself.

He wasn't popular amongst command, and failing to take this point in a timely manner, would definitely contribute to his poor reputation.

He ordered the troops to start preparing to rappel down. The vehicles would have to be rerouted to the lifts, until the groups could recombine, the Ork Hunters would be more vulnerable to psychic attack.

It is believed that the bloodline of the Tlālōcān royal family is descended from the God Emperor himself. That when he walked the planet in the form of the sun warrior he blessed the future ruler with a child. Of course, this is often considered to be a bit more metaphorical than literal by the ecclesiarchy.

One story tells of how he cured the infertility of the first queen of the new order and a child was born soon after. Another told of how he wept over the bones of martyrs, and that a tear mixed with blood and from that fusion the first of the line sprouted, found amongst them as a babe protected by a sky serpent. The one that the ecclesiarchy dislike had the child be created more traditionally.

------

The young princess Itztli spun her spear around, the feathered fetish dangling near the tip was from the colourful plumage of one of the sky serpents.

"I know all this already." She sighed as she swung her weapon out in a feint. "Trying to distract me." She joked, her features lit up by the circle of braziers that marked the outside of the duelling arena.

"You're of age now, I need to make sure you understand the implications of future pairings." Huiztecol, her sparring coach, and part time history teacher informed her.

She simply rolled her eyes.

------

As time went on, it was common for the ruling family to take many spouses, as to spread the divine blood wider. Whilst this practice became common amongst the nobility, it did not catch on amongst the commonfolk.

The act of taking an additional husband or wife, in essence, declares one of the couple as being better than another. Which is why it is common for no les to make joint announcements that they are both seeking additional mates, so they can still claim to be a partnership of equals.

------

"Explains why the royal family is so big." Itztli ducked under the wide spear arc Huiztecol swung at her.

"You're currently 128th in line if memory serves." He said twisting another jab towards her, which she barely avoided. "Yet still close enough to claim the princess title."

"The people like pretty princesses." She joked again, testing his defences with a jab of the spear.

"That why you spent so much time learning how to dodge?" Meeting her jab, with a verbal one.

------

The ruling family is known for their beauty, which is believed to be the residual effect of the divine touch on their bloodline.

------

"Or because they took the best looking partners." Itztli interrupted again, swinging the spear behind her and into the flames of the brazier.

"That too." Huiztecol chuckled, eying the position of her spear. "That trick again?"

She spun the spear, the feathered fetish ignited by the brazier, the heat of it pushed Huiztecol back, causing him to lose his footing.

"You win then." He put down his spear. "You'll have to get back to your quarters, I believe your new bodyguard from the Obsidian Order is arriving soon."

------

Later Itztli was in her room, still wondering why Huiztecol had felt the urgent need for a lesson in royal relationships was suddenly so necessary.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Itztli announced.

In walked her new bodyguard. A young woman barely older than her, short tomboyish hair turned orange from an attempt to bleach it. A slim build, with slight musculature, a cocky smile, and clothing that showed off her tattoos in a rather interesting way.

"Hi, I'm Tlalli." Her voice, slightly rough but wrapped in enough honey to make Itztli weak in the knees.

Itztli suddenly found herself seeing the wisdom in the lesson on relationships.

[15, 13]

The first movements they made were to be under cover of night.

Adjacent forces had started their assaults, so they should be able to slip past. As long as the heretics were kept busy, and no trigger happy snipers mistook their scavenged and salvaged gear for that of a heretic.

Spotters kept their eyes on the first line of hereticsl troops. Some at the periphery had their heads removed by a barrage of gunshots, which allowed the Ork Hunters to move up, unencumbered.

An artillery strike drew another group of traitors to move targets, leaving a token guard, ready to trip the alarm should they be attacked no doubt. So any strike would have to be decisive and fast to prevent that fact, not to mention quiet, blades were to be the primary weapon along this path.

"Half-Ork" moved himself and his squad into position, only moving during the period between flashes from artillery explosions to avoid detection. They struck as one, and by the time the next flash struck, the garrison was dead. With the floor stained red and their knives wetted with blood.

Sand irritated the joints of Grivrim's new knees. For which he silently cursed the commissar that shot him, she'd be paid back for that, in full. He quietened ehen he noticed a squad of heretics ahead of him, they outnumbered the squad he was currently leading, but that never stopped him before. He counted off silently, fingers outstreched from 3... 2... 1...

Then they fired.

First group of the heretics were cut down, but a counterattack downed a handful of the Ork Hunters. When the heretics were eventually put down he directed the medic, Bones as they called him, to identify which could be saved and to help them. Leaving Grivrim to head off by himself, towards the accursed stairs.

Tlalli, Itztli, and Xoco had their own way forward, tailing others keeping themselves within audio contact of spotters. If a heretic unit moved too close to an Ork Hunter group the trio could move quickly and unseen to support. Some squads failed to realise that heretics had spotted them, until Tlalli told them that they owed her now, which most knew well enough, she would collect upon. Others, unfortunately were gone before the Queens reached them.

The Ghost of the Watch, moved unseen, even by the rest of the Ork Hunters. The Ork Skull he wore was the last thing many heretics would see, a flash of bleached bone twaring towards them in the dark.

The path up to the railway had proven bloody, but the Ork Hunters thrived in such an environment.

As they neared the railway they had to slow down, day was breaking, but not all the enemy lines had been yet.

[A lady never tells] years ago.

------

Darkness.

A bag over her head.

Tlalli was being dragged through... Somewhere.

*Use the senses you have left.*

Sounds.

Moisture dripping, heavy footsteps against stone.

A cave?

Feelings.

Warmth, every 5 steps.

Torch placements, even spacing.

Smooth flooring.

A corridor, made of stone.

Smells.

A faint smell of lavender, and smoky mezcal.

She knows who's holding her, she picked his pocket last night.

Frack

A new smell... Sulphur?

She remembered stories from her childhood, of the sulphurous stench of daemons.

Was she being dragged to hell?

The bag was removed from her head.

Ahead of her, she saw a door, and new sensations flooded her.

Evil. Hate. Death. Fear.

She looked around, panicked. The carvings in the walls were familiar. She focused her mind on the story they told.

--------

Long ago, a tyrant ruled the world, keeping the people down with evil witchcrafts. Deals with daemons and xenos to keep their power.

Then the warrior came, an aura like the sun that burned away the heretics' power.

Desperate, the tyrant made a final deal.

His soul was bound to that of a daemon. Testing the planet's crust apart, a cloud of sulphur blotted out the sun. Communities torn apart as obsidian walls rose.

--------

The door started to open.

EVIL.

HATE.

DEATH.

FEAR.

*Focus on the story.*

---------

The sun-warrior lived amongst the people during this time. A beacon of hope in a desolate world, until he and a small group broke through and into the ancient temple.

Deep within the temple, the tyrant had became twisted by the soulbond. He had become....

---------

M̵̨̼̉e̷̎ͅ

Her eyes shot open.

A twisted thing floated before her.

No, it wasn't floating, it was impaled upon the obsidian thorns, trapped here...

B̵y̶ ̵y̷o̴u̸r̶ ̸c̸o̴r̴p̶s̶e̷ ̷g̸o̶d̸.

"Get out of my head!" She screamed at the accused thing. It's very voice was agony, an darkness and evil shrouding her soul. Unending hate for the people of this world. A promise of death infecting her very soul with fear.

S̸t̴o̵l̴e̷n̵ ̷s̴o̶m̵e̶t̴h̴i̷n̷g̴ ̶y̸o̴u̴ ̷s̷h̵o̶u̷l̷d̵n̵'̵t̶ ̶h̴a̴v̶e̷?̴

I had to! She screamed in her head. I couldn't afford to eat so I...

S̵t̸o̴l̷e̵ ̴f̴r̶o̷m̶ ̶t̴h̵e̸ ̸O̴b̷s̸i̶d̵i̴a̴n̵ ̶O̷r̴d̵e̷r̷

FRACK!

She knew enough about the Obsidian Order to know that this was most likely her execution. Their headquarters was the ancient temple from the story, she realised that now. The path leading to it was paved with the bones of heretics and those who had fought against the new royal family.

T̷h̶e̶ ̸C̴o̵r̶p̶s̴e̵ ̶G̷o̸d̴'̸s̶ ̴p̷u̵p̴p̶e̷t̶s̵ ̴a̷n̸d̵ ̶s̴l̴a̸v̴e̶s̴.̷

It was reading her thoughts, each weird it spoke was a twisting thorn trying to burrow deeper into her skull.

W̶h̸y̶ ̵d̵i̸d̴ ̶y̴o̸u̸ ̸t̶h̷i̴n̴k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̴r̷ ̶w̵o̷r̷l̵d̴ ̸b̵i̵r̵t̴h̴e̸d̸ ̷s̶o̸ ̸m̶a̷n̵y̶ ̶t̸e̵l̶e̵p̶a̷t̵h̶s̵?̶ ̴M̵e̴.̵

Lies. She remembered the sermons telepathically broadcast by the priests. Their powers were a gift, from-

M̵e̴,̵ ̵y̷o̵u̶r̸ ̶p̴r̸i̴e̶s̷t̷'̷s̴ ̴p̷o̶w̶e̷r̸s̸ ̵a̴r̷e̸ ̷b̴o̵r̵n̵ ̸o̵f̸ ̴s̸i̸n̵.̷

She looked at the thing, it was a writhing, unknowable thing, every so often it seemed to morph into a humanoid shape. She remembered the priests would use their psychic abilities to sense people's sins, and how she managed to hide hers.

It almost seemed to teach out to her, the twisted mass of obsidian that it was imprisoned by hooking into it and pulling it back in.

Tlalli focused her thoughts on a dozen different things. Never staying anywhere long enough for this creature to snare it's mental hooks in her.

Y̵o̸u̷ ̵f̸o̸o̵l̴.̵ ̶T̴h̴e̸y̸ ̸t̴r̷a̴i̶n̵ ̷f̶o̸r̶ ̶y̵e̵a̵r̷s̶ ̸t̷o̸ ̵s̴u̴r̸v̸i̴v̴e̸ ̶m̷e̶.̵ ̶Y̵o̵u̴.̵.̴.̵

Something has distracted it. She thought back to what she was thinking of before.

Wine she had snuck from a distracted noble.

The guttural cries of Orks being burned alive.

Yesterday's sermon.

The gold statuette of the sun emperor.

S̵t̸o̷p̸.̴

She'd found it. It was a gift from her mother, the last thing she had of her, and this creature was scared of even the memory of it.

The creature tried to dislodge it from her mind. Flashes of promises.

Wealth, enough to never go hungry.

Power, enough to shape the world in her image.

Beauty, to hold the gaze of anyone she desired.

Still she focused, no matter how hard it tried to pull it away from her. That much evil could never be trusted.

The door slid open again.

"Impressive." The man's voice spoke, if she hasn't picked his pocket, she wouldn't be here she wouldn't have had to endure this. "Even recruits that have trained for this rarely make it this long."

Her eyes shot open, he wasn't angry with her. The creature has retreated, the man stood over her, an obsidian aquila in his hand.

"Welcome to the Obsidian Order."

"So, much drink left?" Tlalli asked Xoco, who was counting earnings for the night.

"Mostly just what's drenching you, Itztli, and the slumped over folks around us." Xoco shrugged. "But we did make a good amount of money."

"Any leads to follow up on?" Tlalli inquired.

"Nobody spilled much in this big a crowd." She shrugged again. "So, no."

Tlalli tutted and walked around the passed out patrons of their makeshift bar, liberating a few more thrones, requisition tokens, and whatever else could be brushed off as overspending.

She eventually made her way around to Itztli, who was still asleep, curled up and cradling a bottle. Someone had covered her with their coat.

"Someone's had a big night." Tlalli caught herself smirking.

Itztli simply groaned in response.

Tlalli chuckled. "Sleep it off princess."

She stretched and gestured for Xoco to keep an eye on Itztli before leaving.

She had an appointment to keep.

u/Ulfgrimnirr